


Your Wishes Are My Desires

by Whiskma



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2012-2014 don't fail me now, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamic, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Multi, Mutual Pining, Omega Clint Barton, Pining, Slow Burn, beta reader, i literally wrote this because i was mad, more tags to possibly happen, pure smut won't be for a bit, sorry - Freeform, y'all are both just oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskma/pseuds/Whiskma
Summary: You've known Clint Barton for years, ever since he joined you two have practically been joined at the hip with laughs and smiles to boot. Sure he was an airhead back then, but he's the man your heart set on ever since. So, of course, you get angry when people try and downplay him because of his biology or his abilities.You're a Beta, so your body is just a bit different in terms of cycles. You experienced both ruts and heats, but not near on the level of an Alpha rut or an Omega heat, so you could understand the feeling of being trapped in your room while your body throbbed and your mind went hazy.And you helped him whenever you could, but you weren't an Alpha, you knew this and so did he. Neither of you cared, either. But apparently, the rest of the world did. It seemed to be most everyone's business. And you were tired."You owe them nothing, Clint," you said, clearly surprising the man who thought he was alone in his room of the tower. He smiled when he turned away from you, though. You never tolerated anyone badmouthing him, and it was showing up more and more as you both got older. He appreciated you through the years, glad you understood him and his decisions. But it still hurt now and then.





	1. He's My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so before the actual story: I'm mainly writing this because of a trend I've seen with other fics with this dynamic, it urks me to no end how in fics the omega in the pairing's feelings over certain things (bonding, heats, pregnancy, etc.) are just swept under the rug and I hate that so fucking much. So this is like my clean up for that. With my favorite Avenger... because I'm mad.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

For you, it didn't really matter what person's biology was what, all that mattered was their ability to get the job done. You'd had the mentality your whole life. Your family was a mixture of Alpha and Omega, so when you popped up a complete Beta, you turned a few heads. But you were soon thought of like everyone else in your family: a human. You may have had certain feelings over certain familial events in your life, but never once did you try and define someone because of biological "status", as most refer to it as. Even as you joined SHIELD, thanks to your intelligence and near Stark level know-how of technology, you'd kept that mentality fresh in your mind. You weren't a field agent, but sometimes you found yourself behind enemy lines with a decoder in one hand, a headset on, and a gun in the other with as much respect for your teammates as you could grant given that some of them were just trigger happy fools.

Some time along the way you met Clint and you two didn't hit it right off the bat, in fact, you hardly ever interacted at all until one fateful mission where he talked your ear off and all you could do was talk his off right back. It was a slow mission, but you were both about a city's distance from one another simply tracking a HYDRA agent from one end to the other, closing in on them, all the while talking about how great the night was and how you both wanted to go to that pizza restaurant down the road from your position. Probably the only reason you hit it off so well was pure spite from the both of you when a reminder came over your coms to keep it professional after you cursed up a storm when your little hand-held got jammed with static. Clint was quietly laughing on his end, though he never said a word after up until that call came up and suddenly both of you couldn't shut up. It was a perfect night and the guy was caught, no harm no foul. Fury didn't find your conversation to be very funny, but you both shrugged it off when you walked out of his office.

Even after that night, you hardly ever interacted. Clint was a bit of a hot head in those days and was still one now about certain subjects that tested his growing patience, so he was always looked down upon by some of the upper-level agents even as he started to rise in rank from how good of a shot he was. And what can you say? You always felt the need to protect and befriend the underdog in most any situation if you could. Though you didn't need to protect Clint, he had himself covered. But you still became friends, anyways, always chatting and snarking off to one another to pass the time when training kicked you both in the ass some days.

That's when you noticed it though. That sweet scent in the air around him during certain times of the year, the way his brow would sometimes shine with sweat, the way he'd hitch his breath in sitting down, all before he'd disappear for a week. You were aware of what was happening after the first time when he came back looking a little tired but not nearly as ragged. That's when you noticed how others, particularly the Alphas, looked at him. And that set you off quicker than anything.

"No one gets it," he told you one day, trusting you enough after the few years you've known one another, "I just... don't want a bond. I like being by myself. It's comfortable." Clint, admittedly, had a couple of drinks that probably were the motivator for revealing this information to you, but it wasn't like you'd tell the world or try to convince him otherwise. His explanation was the reason why you were also single, in reality. You didn't want a bond just yet. Maybe ever. Most Betas tended to take one role or another in their relationships, but you just had no real desire for anything, and you doubted you ever will with how you felt about it now.

Then there was one instance you had to... help him. Sometimes, and you could attest to this, a heat could get downright unbearable if you didn't have the proper distractions. Not only were you called up by Clint to just help distract him, but on your way over you were stopped by a medical official trying to ward you off. It had gotten so bad for him he was in a station of the medical bay, on his own terms thankfully, where Omegas and Betas were allowed to stay if they wished to be alone for the duration of their heats. But the archer had come out of his room and explained himself evenly, convincing the nurse to allow you to visit him on his own request.

"It's okay," you'd whispered, nuzzling his cheek from behind while he quietly whined and shook in your arms. "I won't break your trust, just tell me what you need me to do." That night, you were sent into a slight rut because of hormone nonsense that you didn't like to listen to since you'd heard it a thousand times. Clint was surprisingly quiet, but you could tell with the way his skin was hot under your touch and the way he raised to meet you, he was holding himself back. That morning, he checked out of the ward and you gave notice to your commanding officer that you had to take some time off. You'd never been so glad for someone dismissing you for your scent before. And after that entire week, you two had gotten closer, but you both agreed it wasn't lover close, you couldn't allow it to get lover close in this line of work.  
  
"He's my best friend," you explained in admittance one day in front of Director Nick Fury, himself. You were called into his office after word had traveled from the nurse that you and Clint accidentally contaminated a safe room with your activity, as it was described to you. You understood that the switch in pheromones in the air likely messed with a few agents who were just starting or in the recovery of their heats, and you apologized to them accordingly. Some accepted with understanding and a few either didn't remember or didn't want to talk about it.  
  
"Make sure that's all it is," Fury had told you, using an even tone. You understood and were sent on your way. To this day you'll never forget the slight pull at your gut when you saw Clint walk out of the office an hour later after having the same conversation. You remember walking up and lightly bumping the center of your palm to the back of his head with a grin, knowing how to get him rolling his eyes. It worked, of course, but you two had a lot that needed to be discussed. You both agreed it was only during his worst times would you help him out, and only if he asked you to. He tried to offer help to you for your ruts, and though you accepted, you never did call upon him during that time. Compared to his heats, the turning in your gut and the heat of your chest meant nothing to the sweat shining on his body and the whines you'd hear upon entering his room.

And that's how time has been for both of you. Even after the mission to kill a Natasha Romanoff, which Clint obviously didn't follow through on, Loki's attack on New York, all of it. You'd become good friends with Natasha over the years, and the unmentioned bond between you and Clint has grown considerably. Now that you were both on a team, well, you were practically inseparable.

 

* * *

 

"He's my best friend," you sighed out over your mug of tea, watching the monitors back in the tower while you reviewed the footage of Clint and Nat infiltrating a major HYDRA base. Clint, who was currently on his own floor of the tower at the current moment, had gotten absolutely blasted to near hell and back from an explosion. The only reason you weren't analyzing the situation for bugs, and mentally screaming, was that he'd gotten up a second later with literally no injuries to speak of and gave the drone Stark allowed you to use an OK symbol before firing an arrow at some poor sap.  
  
"You coming to regret that, yet?" An all too familiar voice piped up behind you, causing you to turn around with a smirk and an eyebrow raise. Clint gave you a grin and set down his cup of coffee to look at his own dumbassery on screen.  
  
"Not yet, but I'm seriously considering getting you a shirt that says 'If I look lost, call this number.'" You turned back to the screen and tapped a couple of buttons. The whole reason you were reviewing this footage was that you were looking for clues to HYDRA's plans and such. You could hardly remember why you were doing this, but that didn't stop you from doing your job. HYDRA was bad news, and anything could help. "You're absolutely sure the only thing you and Nat found was bad guys and a whole server of files?" You asked, your voice suggesting how tired you were.  
  
"Well," Clint crossed his arms and looked at the assortments of screens with you. "Unless you count a couple of posters of propaganda and a less than tasteful prison cell," he rose a brow and gestured to the screens, "that's all we could find, and we were thorough."  
  
"Tony's mulling over the contents, right?" You asked, stopping the screens a moment to check around for anything that could work to your advantage. "What are those numbers on that ripped paper?" Your finger tapped the glass and Clint's attention was drawn to it.  
  
"It helped us open the door to the third base floor. Then again, so did some poor guy's finger." Clint added, lightly bumping your shoulder with his hip. "You should rest, you've been at this for hours. I'm sure, even if we did miss anything, it'll all be on that server." You rubbed your tired eyes with a smile stretching your lips.  
  
"Sure, then my job'll really be over. I'm not as fast as Jarvis in deciphering code, y'know." You leaned into your hand and closed your eyes with the softest sigh leaving your chest. "And I'm certainly not a field agent... or a god... or a scientist... or an experiment, the list goes on." You couldn't help the yawn that escaped without permission. After a grunt, you took another sip of your tea and set the mug down pointedly, already knowing Clint's eyes were on you in concern. You both got like this, though, it was like clockwork after hard missions and long days.  
  
"Mhm, but the moment you're gone would be the moment everyone would be needing your expertise on data mining and code work, or whatever you call it. Jarvis knows a lot of things, and so does Tony, but you explain it all better than they do. Hell, you helped me when my quiver malfunctioned after New York." Clint lightly bumped your elbow with his knee and gave you a smile. You snorted as you leaned back, putting your hands behind your head while you closed your eyes, a clear smile on your face.  
  
"That was because I'm the only one you trust in repairing your things, that's how it's always been." A snicker was quick to form and you leaned forward to turn off the computer so you could head to bed. A moment of silence was quick to settle while you stayed in the hard chair you had been in for the past day. You looked up at the black screens and found Clint looking back at you before his eyes moved down to his coffee mug. He looked troubled so you turned towards him with a worried enough expression that he stood and took a draught of his coffee before shaking his head.  
  
"It's nothing." Though the weight in his voice was enough to convince you otherwise. The archer looked down in his mug and then you saw it, what you couldn't in the dim light of the room before. The slightest shake of his hand, the bit of sweat on his brow...  
  
"You off your supplements?" You asked quietly, legs and arms crossed until you deemed that too authoritative. You quickly untangled your limbs and stood up, meeting his eyes with that understanding look in your eyes no Alpha could give him. He's told you that on more than one occasion. You quipped something back at him that made you both laugh, but at the moment neither of you felt like laughing. Supplements were a serious deal. Not only were they dangerous in high and frequent doses, but if the person who took them didn't regulate the intended use, their cycles would change. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, alike, had to be hospitalized now and then because of it. Some people just didn't want to face their biology, didn't matter their dynamic.  
  
"Gotta keep... Gotta keep myself..." Clint gestured to his body and took another sip of his coffee. You heard him loud and clear.  
  
"Yourself." The completed statement made both of you sigh and look away. You didn't take supplements, never felt the need to, but you always supported others decision to do so.

After a moment you lifted your hand and lightly bopped the archer atop his head with your palm, grinning over the lip of your mug as he gave you a snort and pushed your hand away.

"Need any company?" You never asked him if he needed your help, knowing that would make him feel bad for bringing the subject up. It was easier to try and distract him first, anyway.  
  
"We'll see. It hasn't started just yet, thank you~" He teased you with a brow lift, though the smile didn't completely reach his eyes. Clint huffed through his nose and already you could tell his heat wasn't far behind by how he kept moving his mouth, his eyes, his hands... you were well aware of all his little ticks. But the moment you set your hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile, he calmed down considerably and you chose to believe it was because he knew there would be no judgment or prejudice from you.  
  
"I'll be sure to get my deck of cards ready if you do call, how about that?" Your hand lightly squeezed his shoulder and the archer gave you a smile, a genuine one.


	2. I Can't Tell Them

Clint walked down the hall from the main tech area he had seen you enter some time ago. He was still not totally at ease with how his body stirred around you during this time of the year. It was strange, but he supposed it was because you'd done so much to help him that his body... was getting attached? That didn't sound right. His body wasn't his deciding factor, he made that clear to anyone that dared tell him otherwise.

But there he was in the elevator, wiping his forehead for the umpteenth time while he waited for the doors to open on his floor. It might have also just been that there were three Alpha's in the building... and a beta that hardly had the instinct to really count for one... _Sorry Tony_. Clint chuckled at his own inner monologue while he stepped out onto his floor. Yeah. That had to be it... right?

The archer stretched some and pulled off his shirt, a bit surprised with how damp it was from under his jacket. Maybe the time was getting closer than he thought... Clint sighed loudly and threw the soft cotton blend into the hamper near his bedroom doorway, clearly, he needed to go to bed before he wastes his night in thoughts that shouldn't even be in his head.  
  
"Sir," came Jarvis' soft voice. Clint didn't look up or around like he had the first few time he'd heard the voice, instead, he unbuckled his pants while he waited for whatever report or reminder he forgot he'd asked for or set. "(Y/N) wanted to remind you that there are cold packs and warming pads in the infirmary, should you need the comfort." Clint rose up a bit at that before a tiny smile graced the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Thank you, Jarvis." Clint turned on the fan in his room for the noise before he slipped into bed, a little surprised at the next message the AI gave to him.  
  
"(Y/N also wishes to tell you that they look forward to beating you in a game of cards, sir." The statement was so out of the blue, but not for you. Clint chuckled and quietly thanked the AI one more time before he was left alone with his thoughts for the night. But his dreams were a little less than quiet.

 

* * *

 

 

"I feel so dizzy," he told you, shaking where he sat on the bed. This was the second time he'd asked for your help, and this was the second time you'd responded. He was so grateful that you understood the agony heats could sometimes be. This one wasn't completely normal and he knew the cause. He'd taken supplements the last couple times and his body needed a break before he split in half from his cycles running amuck. Clint couldn't understand how you could handle the constant change of hormones in your body with your frequent cycles of ruts and heats, but then again he'd always seen you as strong in that regard.  
  
"I know you do," you told him with a kind smile. He knew you could smell his situation the moment you opened the door. The both of you were in a new facility that was bigger than the last, so that meant rooms were farther apart and you could... help him without anyone noticing. "Just lay back for me, okay? Let me see you." Clint whined and relented, his back laid across the mattress while you moved above him. He saw the change in your eyes, the one you described to him the week before he told you he needed your help again.  
  
It was hard not to cry out. You were so careful with him but when you kept on meeting his hips, he couldn't help but let out a loud mewl with a shameful turn of his head, but you were right there with him. So gentle yet you met all of his needs at the same time. He shook where he laid and felt his breath fly from his chest in a silent moan when he felt you just touch him in the right ways and bam, he panted with a slight shake of his body at the mess he'd made between you two. You ran your hands along his hot skin and became the attentive person he knew you to be in these moments without any hesitation. You were right there for him.  
  
"Thank you, (Y/N)..." Clint said after the third time, his eyelids would quickly become heavy from exhaustion while he felt your hands along him. He'd never had anyone to help him with his heats before, so for you to be the first one... it gave him a sense of comfort. He trusted you with knowledge of himself no one else knew and trusted you to not break the promises you made to one another.  
  
"Of course, Clint. Go to sleep, okay?" You coaxed him, and wiped a cool cloth along his hot forehead. You laid it down a moment later to help him cool off. The both of you knew that it was only a matter of time come morning before he needed your attention again. A small part of him hoped he'd see you in the morning by his side, a bigger part hoped you'd stay with him throughout the day as a friend and not because you felt obligated to help him...

Clint was out before he even knew which way was up. It was the best sleep he'd had since...

Since the last time you helped him out.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up he groaned out and pressed his hands over his face, the heat hit him hard. He didn't stand much of a chance to even head to the main kitchen and to get a bite of breakfast or so much a cup of coffee before it hit. And it was unrelenting.  
  
Clint sat up with a quick kick of his legs to get the covers off of him, glad he was smart enough to have taken off most of his clothes, and scowled at the floor. His skin felt so tight and he couldn't keep the burning in his throat down for the life of him. He needed water. Clint nearly stumbled out of his own bed when he headed for the kitchen, just barely able to right himself before he decided to go to the bathroom and get water that way. It was closer and he needed to cool his skin somehow.  
  
After a few splashes to his face and a few handfuls of water-- real classy, Barton --he mentally chastised himself for going over his limit. He had it down to a science. At least three times before he had to let go. He went four times and really wanted to punch himself. The only reason he'd gone those four times was that the week everyone was moved to the tower would have been the week for one of his heats... And he didn't want to appear weak in front of his new teammates by immediately collapsing before everyone moved in. Clint wondered if you were aware of this, seeing how Jarvis' reminders rang like a bell in his ears last night.  
  
When he felt something slowly roll down his leg his cheeks flared a deep red and he headed for the shower, kicking off his boxers to get a handle of himself in his haste.

By the time the water ran cold along his skin, he just felt that fire in his gut and gave up after nearly an hour scrubbing himself clean and standing there. His knees felt too damn wobbly anyways, and when he got out of the bathroom, he seriously debated just walking around in the nude. But because he didn't want to clean up too many messes or explain to anyone who dropped by in the future that one fated day led to so many dark spots on his couch. He'd pass, thank you very much.

Clint finally decided on some of his more loose clothes that were strictly for these times of the month and just general relaxation. Though it initially didn't help him, the cool feeling on his skin after he dried off did him wonders, and he was actually able to reach his own kitchen without falling over. Thank God Tony had the foresight to give everyone basically a home below the main hall where they all congregated.  
  
"Jarvis?" Clint pipped up, not liking how strained he sounded already. "Can you tell me the fastest possible way to the medical bay? Preferably so I won't meet anyone in the hallway?" After a moment or two, the AI responded.  
  
"Is it your heat, sir?" The knowledgable yet very, very clueless AI asked. Clint nearly dropped his mug and growled, though it turned to a pathetic whine near the end before he called out.  
  
"Yes, it is. Does Stark know?" He spat a bit of venom, but dammit, he didn't want them to know just yet.  
  
"No. I have a discretion protocol that doesn't even allow for him to know certain bits of information until he's told first hand. Please don't be alarmed." Jarvis' calm voice soothed him more than he cared to admit. He didn't want any of the team to know just yet. Thank you, Tony, for making his floor the lowest one. "The quickest way to the medical bay would be the right elevator that hardly anyone uses and straight forward once you're on the desired floor. No one is currently there now." Clint sighed in relief.  
  
"Good, thank you, Jarvis. Is..." Clint's voice trailed off and he bit his bottom lip.  
  
"(Y/N) is not yet awake, sir." Came the AI's answer. The archer set his mug down. Okay. He had a mission to do.  
  
Clint set off to the right elevator, as Jarvis had instructed him, and called it down with a button press. He had put on his jacket in the meantime and hoped that if he did run into someone, sweat pants weren't too damning of his predicament.

As the doors opened up, he saw where he needed to go and walked his way over, so glad that he wasn't stumbling at the slight gust of the AC anymore, to grab a couple cooling packs and heating pads he'd need. Clint's eyes scanned around and he'd found that Stark may have had more to his status as a Beta than he'd realized. There were... special drinks littering the small compartment of the upper shelf near where he just was. He wondered if Tony would notice if any went missing... Clint took his chances and grabbed a bottle, turning it over to read what it helped with. It was a special... drink and rub, of sorts. It was supposed to help the person calm down and alleviate the rising temperatures of their body... but the warning label said not to take it if you just got off suppressants.  
  
"Damn it," he cursed. They all had warnings like that. He was stuck.   
  
Clint's pity ride up the elevator was interrupted by Jarvis, he was starting to get a little annoyed with how much this AI checked in on him.  
  
"Sir, (Y/N)'s on your floor," Javis spoke as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Normally, it would be. But right now? It was not.

Clint whined and slid his back lightly against the glass backing of the lift before coming to attention with a small pout on his face as the doors opened. True to his words, you were right there in his kitchen cooking something. When he stepped through and you looked up, he had to look back down at the items in his hands while a streak of heat burst in his gut. He didn't see your worried expression while he headed to his room to drop the packs and pads off. And he didn't get to see the flick of your eyes to his slightly opened bedroom while you fixed his plate full of eggs and bacon.

 

* * *

 

 

"I can't tell them." Clint's words were softer than anything you'd ever heard, he was sure. He didn't like seeing that worried expression on your face but... "Just not right now, anyway. I will later, just... I dunno." He finally admitted, his fork played with the last bit of his scrambled eggs. Clint noticed you gave him a hearty serving of everything, he wasn't able to eat all of it in one go. So that likely meant... You planned to help him when he asked you later. That thought sent a wave of nausea through his system and he lightly pushed his plate away from himself. He hung his head slightly and looked off, his lips pursed.  
  
"That's your decision, Clint." Your voice assured him, though he couldn't see the way you almost reached out when he looked away from you.  
  
"Then why do I feel like it'll be forced out of me eventually?" He grumbled. Clint sometimes hated his body, hated the way he sometimes got excited when he caught a whiff of some random Alpha on the street about to go into a rut. He didn't want a bond, for fuck's sake. He wanted... he just wanted to be left alone about this stuff.  
  
"Because the moment the world decided an Omega's worth is with their Alpha," you set down your fork a little pointedly. It made Clint look over at you. "People take no consideration for you until you're bonded or more." Clint knew this. It was literally his life, and he was aware that it was partially your's, as well. He didn't know the exact numbers, but he remembered a census that was released right around when he joined SHIELD that for every one Beta, there came a handful of Alphas and Omegas. Betas were kind of rare, and there were all sorts of theories he hardly paid attention to... at least until you came along. Then he found himself reading them all. In fact, out of ever operative of SHIELD, just ten were Betas in his old unit and sixteen in the one you two both joined and were stationed at before New York. And that was out of hundreds of agents per unit. Stark was also a Beta, and Clint would have snorted at the info-- because of course, the billionaire had that rarity with him --if he hadn't been so anxious about everyone knowing about  _his_ status...  
  
"You know I read something a while back," Clint said as he crossed his arms on the island bar before him, "That because a Beta has the ability to... care for people in both ways," he shifted in his seat and looked off to the windows of the tower, looking out at the beautiful sky above the suffocating city, "They're the ideal partner... Because their natural instincts are to care." He didn't know why he was bringing this up, especially  _now_ but he couldn't help himself. The archer looked over when you stood up, watching you take both of your plates and place the leftovers into little bowls he didn't even know he had. Clint almost didn't like that silence from you until he saw your smile when you looked over at him.  
  
"I suppose that's true. I've always been protective of everyone... I guess you could look at it like this," you bent over after you accidentally dropped a fork, Clint's cheeks darkened considerably and he had to hide it by looking out at the window with slightly wide eyes. "That there are two extremes and a Beta's right in the middle." You stood back up and set the plates and forks down into the sink, lightly running water over them for later. "You have people who's natural instincts are to be docile and to care for young, typically," Clint frowned a bit at your words, not liking how true they were most of the time. "And then you have people who's natural instincts are to be dominating and to provide for young, typically."  
  
"You got this from a book," Clint interrupted, looking over with a knowing glance, a little annoyed at what was said but smiling some anyways just because it was you saying it. If it had been an Alpha there would have been a fight. If it had been an Omega... there would have been worry. But you? Even if you quoted the book verbatim, which is what you were doing, he didn't mind. You looked over with your hands up and gave him a smile before lightly placing your hands on the counter.  
  
"I know I did, I read right off the page you'd left it on a few years ago." You leaned against the counter with your hip and crossed your arms. "A few years late but, sorry if that book was for personal reading." Clint lightly shook his head at you and propped his feet up a little higher on the stool he sat at.  
  
"It's okay, I know what comes next... 'And then you have people who are right in the middle with their natural instincts being to just be. Idolized by some, scrutinized by most. A Beta's place is never set because they can both be docile but dominating, and know how to care and provide. Almost like a one-man show.'" Clint smiled, glad for the distraction. He giggled when you poked his cheek and lightly swiped your hand away with a laugh. You always knew how to distract him from himself and the rest of the world. You were his best friend. You and Tasha both were.

And just an hour later you were above him, still honoring your promises while he practically sang your praises with all of his noises and little hip bucks when you got him just right.


	3. I'm In Love

That night you had a dream of a time long past that, even now, still played in the back of your mind. It was a few years ago. You and Clint had planned to meet at a local bar just for a night out, even though you both barely drank enough to count for it, and... things happened between you and a burly Alpha who had been drunk enough to think he owned the placed and the one Omega in it. That didn't fly too far. You still had the scar to prove it. Right behind your left ear.

 

* * *

 

 

You sat down beside Clint with a wide smile on your face. He'd cracked a good joke on the way in and it actually made you cackle hard enough for a few other people to laugh along with you. So you offered to buy the first round of drinks, which would probably be the only round since you two were due for a mission report in the morning. And he accepted with a playful roll of his eyes and a reluctant 'Okay, fine, but I'll get them next time.' What you both didn't know was that there would be no next time. Not after what happened just a little bit later.  
  
The night prior had been splendid. You two had just walked around the shops and stores, buying a small bag of snacks to munch on like a couple of teenagers looking for something fun to do, when you saw the bright lights of a bar sign ahead. You were the one to suggest it, and you wished you'd just ignored it. Clint suggested you two go the next night, it was already late and he didn't want the both of you scrutinized for having a few drinks for training that next morning. You weren't too keen on that, either, so you decided it was better to come in for report the day after next after a couple of drinks. Because no one would blame you and all you two would get is unimpressed eyes from your commanding officer, Phil Coulson-- bless his kind soul.

And in just a few moments when you got up to use the restroom, you remember giving Clint a softer pat than normal. Everyone needed to be careful in today's world but... you just needed him to be extra careful. So when you came back with a paper towel in your fist and your eyes wide at the scene before you, you were glad Clint was strong for his size. Especially since the guy next to him was  _huge_.  
  
"I'd really like it if you walked out that door before I put a dart where you really don't want it," Clint warned, the beer bottle in his hand was about half empty and his patience was completely dried up. He'd felt this guy's stares on him since he walked in, but he didn't say anything since he had appeared too drunk to do anything about it. Then he came over to him literally  _sniffing_ and grinning.

"Big words for a small man. Bigger words for an unmarked one." The guy scratched under his beard and let out a particular kind of growl that sent awful chills down Clint's spine. He looked over at the guy with his famous Barton Stare that made anyone leave him alone if they were sober enough to register it.  
  
"Mighty big words for a guy about to be flat on his ass in a minute," he hissed and looked over, relief flooding only the pupils of his eyes when he saw you coming out of the restrooms. You looked up and met his eyes, then met eyes with the bigger one, and Clint couldn't remember a time you'd been angrier.  
  
"That the one you want?" The man sniggered, taking a swing of the beer from your bottle. You didn't like to drink too much, anyway. "They're a little small... Beta, hm?" Clint really wished this guy would drop dead from alcohol poisoning. He stood up from his stool and nearly took the guy by his collar to throw him down before you grabbed your jacket, purposefully putting yourself between them. You looked distant, that was when you got scary.  
  
"Ready to go?" Your tone was way too even, and your lips way too tight. Clint almost wanted to see what would happen, but he nodded with a smile and fixed his jacket as the guy watched you two refuse to acknowledge him anymore. A big hand was placed on your shoulder and you looked in front of you past the bartender who was about as scared as a puppy facing a lion. You then trailed your eyes up the large hand, followed by the beefy arm, and then met beady eyes with the one who caused this tension. You said nothing.  
  
"You got a good catch, there," the dude was obviously drunk out of his mind and clearly had that old Alpha mentality that you hoped was slowly dying off in the next generations born. The man was surprised when you pushed his hand away, looking as if you might just stare him to death before you actually spoke up.  
  
"He's not a piece of meat," you hissed. "He's not something to put on display," you growled, pressing the tips of all your fingers right into the man's chest. "And he's not mine. He's a human fucking being." With that, you pulled on your jacket and looked back at Clint who was both glad you were there and angry that the Alpha only seemed to listen to your words and not his own. Hell, the jackass barely listened to you, at all! You snapped Clint out of his thoughts with a sigh and a light tug on his jacket sleeve. "Ready to go?" You asked him again, and this time Clint answered back.  
  
"Of course, though I'd love to see what happens when an ox trips over their own feet." The archer couldn't help himself, he had to snark off, especially to get a jab at the drunkard who looked as though he'd already forgotten where he was. Thing is, apparently the guy had a better tolerance than you two thought. Because as you turned and laughed, the big guy was completely facing you with his hand extended at his side. He had turned his ring around when your back was turned and you saw nothing but stars when you were smacked into the countertop of the bar. You heard shouting of some kind before watching Clint launch himself in the air with eyes to kill.

Luckily for the both of you, you weren't the only agents in that bar. Coulson and a small group of his team were also there to come to your aids. But you didn't remember any of it.

You did remember getting a thick file dropped into your lap when you got back to HQ with a bandage around your head and strict instructions to not go to sleep while you got badgered by... just a lot at once. Though nothing was more concerning to you than when you saw Clint a moment later with blood on his knuckles and that famous, stoic expression everyone took to be his death stare. You'd seen his death stare, it was much more terrifying.  
  
"Hey," he greeted, his voice low. You rubbed at your eyes and looked down at the file.  
  
"Hey," you said back before squinting up at him. "Let's never do that again."  
  
"Agreed."

 

* * *

 

 

When you woke up, you found yourself with your arms securely locked around the archer who was still fast asleep and cuddled up to you as if you were his lifeline. You slowly blinked and looked at the time with heavy eyes. It was in the afternoon, and not the noon kind of afternoon. With a quiet sigh you lightly ran your fingers through the soft, dirty blonde hair Clint grew before attempting to pry him off. It was endearing, and if you could stay that way all day you most definitely would, but someone had to be the one to make you guys breakfast. And Clint didn't make it easy with his little whines of sleepy protest until you were able to wiggle away. You really didn't want to, though. But when Clint rolled over as if nothing had happened, you let out a happy sigh and went a few floors up to grab some food.

"Hey Jarvis," you called quietly in the lift with your armload of foodstuffs. "Can you tell me Clint's vitals and such?" You would tell your fellow agent this, but you were starting to get worried. After being told the information you requested, you quietly asked for you own vitals, noting how the AI's response changed when you walked into Clint's floor with the food you'd pretty much stolen from the main kitchen. "Thank you, Jarvis."  
  
You decided to try your hand at making omelets and though they came out a little misshapen, you were proud of the results before you made the little journey to Clint's room to see if he was awake yet. You saw him stir, brief wonder crossing your features if he was waking up on his own terms or his heats terms. You then heard a small series of whines escape him, and you quickly made your way over to him to find him still asleep. A sigh escaped you and you set your hand on his forehead, feeling around and finding that his skin was very hot, almost fever hot.

You looked back at the food in the kitchen and only moved away for a moment before you heard Clint whine again. This time when you looked back, you saw his eyes blearily open with his hand lightly gripping your own with just a slight bit of strength you knew he had. He didn't even know he did it before he looked down and let go. The archer tried to sit up but you saw the shiver run up his spine before you coaxed him back down with quiet shushes and a smile.

"It's okay, Clint. World's not ending yet," you softly told him, his eyes slowly moving from the ceiling to your own as he smirked. He was clearly out of it from the day prior. Now you were just a slight bit more concerned. You knew that overuse of a supplement could induce terrible heats if taken for too long, and you were really wondering if Clint seriously miscalculated his doses for the sole purpose of not having the rest of the team know. They were bound to by now, seeing how both of you were missing, but you'd play it dumb if need be. Then again, it was also possible he was just very tired from the first day. You were banking on the latter to be true.

"If it were, I wouldn't complain," he croaked out while he ran a hand over his face. He needed water and something to eat. You were happy to provide.

Soon you found yourself in quite the predicament. Clint was up and about, able to last a little longer without your touch-- just touch in general -- and you couldn't help but keep your eyes on him even though you knew he wouldn't be going anywhere. You decided to do a little research on your phone for your own curiosity and peace of mind.

After a few articles passed the time for you, you lightly set your phone down with a far off look to your features. Clint was at your side the moment your attention was back into the world of the living. He wasn't going to say what it actually was that brought him to you for no reason seeing how his hormones were level for now. You could guess.

"Something up?" His voice was even and soft, a little raspy if he raised it a bit too much. You looked over at him and shook your head, but he could tell you were lying. He gave you a slight raise of his brows and you sighed, a smile slowly making its way on your face from how silly the air was between you two all of a sudden.

"Just took a look at the calendar..." Which wasn't a lie, you had. You just didn't want to admit what else you had read up on while Clint struggled a bit with his too-hot drink at the time. "My rut's right around the corner." You bit your lip and rubbed your thumb into your palm while looking away, ashamed at the position you'd accidentally put him in. Clint seemed to understand and he shifted on the couch. You felt your back straighten slightly and your eyes go a little wide when you felt the man get closer to you.

"I don't think I've ever helped you with a rut before." He rested his head to your arm and you felt him nuzzle up. This was a damn big grave you've dug yourself over the years...

"I've never asked. Because our cycles have always been close..." you stole a glance back at Clint and found his eyes on you, almost like he was expecting something from you. They were puppy dog eyes, for sure. Then he grinned and you couldn't help but grin right back.

"Maybe Fury was right, we spend too much time around each other." He chuckled and you straight up giggled, moving your arm around his neck and shoulders while he settled to your side.

It was easy for you to forget that this was a promise you had given him all those years ago.

It was also easy for Clint to forget how much he had emphasized he didn't want this to affect your relationship at that same time.

You'd both tried hard, but you couldn't help yourselves, apparently.

And those articles you read really... struck a cord. It seems, without meaning to, you both broke your promises. Repeated  _acts_ , as you were choosing to call them for your own sanity... led to a different kind of bond than a straight mark up. It was older and came from a place before humans found that high in marking. And that both terrified you and excited you.

As you laid Clint down that night, his chest rising and falling with a slick sweat shining off his body, you couldn't help but think how much... more you did for him. You had always made sure he was okay, made sure it wasn't too much at once, kept extra care in maneuvering around his body... Now you were kissing him and holding him close, threading your fingers through his hair as he drifted off to sleep, even going as far as to whisper little praises of affection after the fact into his ear. He purred himself to sleep after everything you did for him now...

"Jarvis?" You quietly called up to the AI on the fourth night. When you heard the confirmation beep, you continued. "Can you keep a secret?"  
  
"Of course, (Y/N)," came his immediate reply. You always liked how Jarvis was programmed. Polite, but with a bite to him, if need be.  
  
"I think... I'm in love." You said, looking back at the archer who had curled up near you, his face partially hidden behind the blanket while he snoozed away.

"With Mr. Barton?" Jarvis asked. You were glad your little jump did nothing to stir the sleeping archer beside you.  
  
"I think so..." Your hand found Clint's hair and you lightly threaded through the soft strands.  
  
"Shall I tell him in the morning?" Jarvis said after another moment.  
  
"Good God-- Jarvis-- No!" You whisper-shouted, feeling your ears burn when the AI made a few little beeps before apologizing.

That night you slept well... maybe a little too well.


End file.
